


The Morning After

by UrielsSong



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Hacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrielsSong/pseuds/UrielsSong
Summary: What could happen after the events of 2x18. Macy and Harry's relationship embarks on a new course.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much a Hacy fic. Please don't comment Hacy hate. Constructive criticism appreciated. Please don't berate me for other unfinished works. I will get to them...eventually. Stand-alone piece. Total smut. Enjoy

The Morning After

Macy’s heart pounded, the sound of the blood rushing, echoing in her ears. If she didn’t act Harry would be vaporized right before her eyes. She’d be forced to watch him being broken down, atom by atom, until he was dead. Gone. If she did nothing, she could lose him. If she acted, she could lose him.

“Macy, you have to do something!” Maggie shouted.

So she did. She reached out with her power, feeling the pressure in the hoses connecting Harry’s pod to the…whatever the fuck that was would rob everything from him.

She pushed, exerting more of her power. She needed to get it just right. Too much and the glass would implode.

The explosion happened so fast. The vacuum created from the drastic change in pressure shattered the glass, driving thousands of shards into Harry’s face…torso. His eyes opened, briefly, full of pain, fixing on her…

Macy jerked awake, panting. Sweat pooled in the hollow of her throat and a sob nursed itself in her chest. She wiped the sweat away and tried to breathe. One deep breath, another. Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

The warm body next to her and his steady breathing calmed her more than anything else. She turned her head on the pillow to look at him. Harry was still fast asleep, his face pressed into the pillow, stubble sprouting along his cheek and chin. She loved his lashes, full and long against his cheek.

Yesterday was one of the most intense of her life. The spell to journey into their memories went sideways (of course it did). But it had worked. It hurt, on an emotional level. So many revelations, and not all of them good. But in the end, Harry’s memory was restored. He was still without powers but Macy didn’t care about that. All she’d cared about was the softness in his eyes when he woke up and looked at her. The warmth of their mutual trust, friendship, and affection mirrored in their depths.

He'd waited until Maggie and Mel had gone to bed. She’d sat beside him in the attic, sipping tea. She knew she kept grinning at him like fool. When Mel and Maggie left, he’d turned to her—

“I believe there’s a conversation we need to finish,” he said.

She sputtered, almost choking on her tea. “You remember?”

“How could I forget hearing something so wonderful? Something I’d been longing to hear almost since we met, Macy.”

She started to smile. “Is this when we met two years ago? Or when we met eight years ago? Or—”

“That day in the market?” He finished for her.

Yes, that day. When he swore he knew her. It rocked her. Being recognized and she had no idea how. Now she knew.

He brushed a stray coil from her forehead. “Yes, even that first time. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you forever, Macy.”

Her breath caught in her chest. He reached for her and she wrapped her arms around him. It felt so good to have him hold her again. He buried his face in her hair like he always did. She never minded. Never. Never let it be known that she actually liked it.

He pulled away slightly to press a kiss against her cheek, just below her ear. He continued, his lips tracing a path down her face, along her chin. Leaving behind what felt like scorched skin. She was starting to burn, heat wafting from her body.

She tilted her head back. Made it easier for him to continue. She wanted him to continue. His lips gently brushed her neck. A flick of the tongue here. A feather-light kiss. Another flick there. She felt the graze of teeth against the sensitive crease between her neck and shoulder.

“Harry.” It came out as half prayer, half plea.

She broke away only long enough to straddle him on the couch. She leaned over and repeated the same process. She inhaled, wanted to capture his scent. A touch of his light, soap and water scent cologne, just the barest trace of sweat, and the tang of rosemary that always seemed to follow him.

She planted kisses along his chin, his neck. Mimicking the flicks of his tongue on her skin. She never thought of herself with an oral fixation but maybe it was about the level of desire. She wanted to taste every bit of him.

Unable to resist any longer she breezed her lips over his. Just a skim. A tease. He groaned.

That was a sound she wanted to hear more of.

She kissed him, gently. Let her teeth press so slightly on his lower lip. His hands were on her waist, just under her sweater, gripping her tighter and tighter. Pressing her down and into him until she could feel the growing rigidity beneath her.

She deepened the kiss. She heard a mewl of want and realized it was coming from her. His mouth of hot, just wet enough. Once she had thought Harry would be timid. Why in the hell did she ever think that?

He met her desire with one just as greedy as her own. His tongue was soft and then insistent. He broke for air just barely enough for her to take her own breath before plunging in again. He sucked on her lower lip and nipped her. Surprised, she responded with a jerk of her hips, a twitch that made both them suck in a breath.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, slipping off of his lap. She entwined her fingers with his and led him out of the attic.

Just the act of leading him to her room made her feel more empowered, more sexy than she’d ever felt before. Not with Galvin, not with Julian. This man. How many times had he been in her room as a friend? A confidant? This was the next step and she was ready.

“You told me I could have whatever I desired, Harry.” She turned to face him.

He reached behind him and closed the door to her room, turning the lock. He leaned against the door, looking at her with a longing that sent a jolt from her heart to her thighs. “I had begun to doubt that you would ever desire me, Macy.”

“Then I have a lot of make up for.”

He stepped forward, his hands reaching for her. He pulled her sweater over her head and flung it aside. His hands trailed up and down her back, his fingers exploring while he dipped his head to her shoulders. He undid the clasp of her bra and she let it fall. She tugged at his shirt and whipped it off. She let her hands roams over the muscles of his arms all the while he looked at her, never breaking eye contact.

A look. That was all she needed. Just a look. And she’d know. And she did.

They stripped off their remaining clothes in record speed. She giggled, she couldn’t help it. They were two fools who’d denied each other for too long. And for what? Fear? It all seemed so simple now.

She climbed onto the bed and he stalked after her, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling as he moved over her.

He settled lower on her, between her legs. His mouth traced the outer curves of one breast, then the other. His tongue circled on nipple before suckling quickly, blowing a cool breath over it until it puckered, erect until it was almost painful. Then suckling again before moving on to the other one. He was taking his sweet time and, for now, she let him.

His hands ran up and down her thighs. She bent her legs, so his hands could explore, cup her butt. All the while his lips moved over her breasts, her stomach, his hands roved. The man had excellent hands.

He moved lower, his lips teasing above her pubic bone. Then lower, his tongue dipping between the lips of her pussy, a glancing brush over her clit.

“Harry!”

He ignored her. She swore she could feel his lips curling into a smile against her thigh. He brushed more kisses against her inner thighs before returning to her clit…right where she wanted…

Her hips lifted off the bed when he made contact. His hands were strong, pushing her back down and holding her in place. He swirled his tongue around her clit and then his lips fastened over that swollen bundle of nerves, alternating pressure and rhythm while she tried to squirm in his grip.

Wetness pooled onto the bed, feeling cool underneath her. Sweat beaded on her skin and she was panting, partly from exertion and the torment being performed on her but also to keep from screaming. She would not be responsible for her actions if Mel or Maggie burst into her bedroom and interrupted.

“God, Macy,” Harry said, breathless. “You taste sweeter than I ever imagined.”

He imagined? Whoo! If Harry only knew. She found herself shooting a panicked glance at her bedside. Yes, she’d remembered to hide Harry’s training orb in her nightstand.

“I take it I’m not the only one who’s been imagining?”

She turned back to him to see him looking up at her, a smile playing on lips wet with her slickness.

She laughed. “You knew I had it?”

“I know you so well, Macy,” he told her, before lowering his head again.

She sucked in a breath between her teeth. Her clit was already swollen and throbbing and his mouth didn’t offer her any mercy. He put his right arm under her left leg, cradling her in his arms, rocking her with the rhythm of his tongue and lips. By all the stars, it was glorious.

She rode along with him. Eyes closed, head rolling on the pillow. She had one hand in his hair, at alternate times trying to push him away only to bring him back again. It didn’t matter what she did. Harry was in control right now and nothing was going to stop him.

She loved every second of it.

She felt the muscles in her pelvis tighten, the lips of her pussy growing heavier. She came, her hips jerking as spasm after spasm rode through her. She turned her head to bury her face in her pillow to stifle her scream. “Harry!”

He moved back up, trailing his lips back over her stomach until he was once again face to face with her. He kissed her deeply and she could taste the musk of her own wetness on his own swollen, reddened lips.

She broke away to catch her breath and then pushed him onto his back.

“Your turn.”

“Oh, dear god, yes, Love.”

She loved the hoarse, breathlessness in his voice. She ran her fingers over his chest, luxuriating in the smattering of hair on his chest. Harry was full of lean muscle and she let her mouth trace over his abs. She nipped at the flesh above of pelvis, heard him suck in a breath so she ran her tongue over the mark she’d made, kissing it gently.

She reared back, her hands on his thighs. Something about Harry’s thighs delighted her. Ever since he ran into her room in his boxers, she’d wanted a closer look at those thighs. She gently ran her nails along the inside of each thigh.

“That’s very rude, Macy.”

She laughed and did it again but soothed the scowl he gave her by running her lips along the inside of each one, ignoring the throbbing, fully erect dick practically waving for her attention.

She repressed another giggle.

“I do love to hear you laugh, Macy but perhaps not at this particular moment.”

“I’m enjoying myself, Harry.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair. “Well, in that case…”

She gave him what he was waiting for. She ran her fingers over his dick, let her fingers circle and twist as she stroked up and down. His hips twitched in response to her stroking. Their eyes met and she saw the naked need on his face.

She bent her head, running her tongue around the rim then down his length. She was pleasantly surprised by what those boxers hid. Not only length of also a width that was slightly daunting. Especially to her limited experience. She inhaled his scent, traces of musk, earth, soap, and sweat. She felt her muscles quiver and instinctively pressed her legs together, feeling her own desire starting to crest again.

She took him into her mouth, sucking slowly before withdrawing and then again. He groaned, one hand fisted in the comforter, the other in her hair. But he didn’t push. Didn’t press her. It was more the need to hold onto her.

She sucked faster, harder, then slow. She wanted to torture and tease him as he’d teased her. Fulfill his fantasies as he fulfilled hers.

“Yes, Macy, yes.”

He continued to mutter her name under his breath. She knew he loved to say her name. She loved hearing it from his lips. Even more so now.

“You don’t have to—” he started to tell her, panting.

But she wanted to. She took him deeper into her mouth and look up at him, willing him to open his eyes and look at her.

He must have sensed her desire. He opened his eyes and looked at her and that was enough to send him over the edge. He exploded in her mouth, hot, salty, just a tinge of sweet. She drank him down and could her own wetness trickling down her thighs. She finally released him, letting him slowly slip from her mouth.

She took a deep breath and collapsed next to him. He enfolded her in his arms, his lips against her forehead. He brushed her damp hair away from her face. She still felt her own pussy throbbing. She wanted more.

And it didn’t take long for Harry to recover. He may not be able to orb but his healing ability must still be present as his recovery time would have made a rabbit proud.

He kissed her deeply. They were tasting and reveling in each other. He moved over her and she raised her knees and let her legs fall open, ready, waiting.

He looked down at her and she nodded.

He eased into her. Slowly, too slowly and she bucked her hips and whimpered to try to speed him along. He lowered himself closer to whisper in her ear. “I’ve waiting a long time. I want to enjoy every second, Macy.”

Damn him. God, she loved this man.

She opened her legs wider, feeling him stretch her and even with the slickness it bordered on pain. But she welcomed it. She cupped his ass, pulling him into her faster, deeper--short, sharp little pants escaping her throat.

“Ahhh, Macy!”

“Yes, Harry. Don’t hold back. Please…please!”

He didn’t. He moved inside of her, first pumping energetically and then switching up, circling his hips, each rotation hitting that trigger deep inside of her, then pumping again.

She did scream then. She forgot where they were. That her sisters may hear. Blackness edged into her vision and her breath stopped. She forgot everything except the feel of him inside of her. How so good, how perfect he felt.

When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes. “Come for me, Harry,” she whispered.

One last stroke and he was over the edge with her, yelling her name, his body rigid as he came inside of her, his cum filling her, pooling beneath her.

He collapsed and it was her turn to cradle him close. She pressed kisses to his forehead. He grabbed her left hand and pressed kisses to each finger. They entwined themselves around each other, his head on her breasts. She wanted to stay this way forever.

Now it was morning and, as the sunlight filled her room, she was reminded of all of the hurdles still waiting for them. Harry’s lost powers. The Faction. Finally breaking free of Julian once and for all. And most terrifyingly, what would become of Harry after he merged with Jimmy. He wouldn’t be the same. She couldn’t delude herself on that point. But would he still love her? She didn’t want to think of that now. She just wanted to enjoy this man next to her.

He stirred, his eyes focusing on hers. They’d only slept a few hours, broken up between bouts of very energetic and lusty sex. She couldn’t get enough. Neither could he. He told her so. Repeatedly.

“You’re laughing at me again,” he said, his voice still groggy from sleep.

“I’m enjoying you, Harry Greenwood.”

“As I enjoy you, Macy Vaughn.”

He leaned closer and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, Harry.”

End


End file.
